Lucky day!

On my way home from school this afternoon I caught a little break. We were just driving along on a residential street (you know, avoiding traffic on the main roads - everyone does it) when all of a sudden I saw something interesting in the road.

It was small, and green. It looked like cardboard, standing up, but something told me it wasn't.

"Stop the car!" I cried out, and Em quickly pulled over to the side of the road.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Back up." I said. "I think I saw something interesting."

He backed up and I got out of the vehicle.

Yep. There they were. Two nice, crisp, slightly folded, lonely-looking twenty dollar bills.

Scooped. In my hands. In my pocket. I looked around - no one anywhere in sight.

Big smiles everywhere. Em drove around the block several times, looking for more. Alas, there were none.

I immediately posted a sign looking for the owner. To date, no one has come forward. Now... Did I leave my phone number on the sign or no? I say... Yes.

If it's yours you can have it back, as long as you offer a forty dollar reward.

Sweet dreams!

J

Five hours a week

Doesn't sound too bad, does it? That's the amount of time we kids were told we would need to put in to each course, in addition to the actual lecture time. Five hours, five courses, 25 hours.

Add that to lectures of three hours per week, times five courses, total 15 hours, and we're looking at a 40-hour work-week for your average full-time student.

Add travel time - a 50 minute bus ride, twice a day - and that's a gol-dern 50 hour week!

Add the fact that lectures occur at varying times - from very early morning to Saturday Afternoon - and that there are distances to go between them - and that it takes a moment (certainly for me) to focus the focus, and I think you see that university is most definitely NOT for the faint of heart.

I believe that everyone should have the opportunity to attend university if they have the grades and the desire. I don't believe that everyone can succeed there; it shouldn't mean that. University should be hard. You should never, ever graduate from university as a blistering idiot.

Oh, and for the record, I most certainly DO NOT believe as some of our politicians do that every student's tuition should be covered by the public purse! What the heck can the kids learn about sacrifice if they never have to make any?

J

Limonade

A wise man once said to me: "If life gives you lemons, gather them all up in a large pile and stomp the shit out of them." He was right, of course, though his expostulation was predicated on the fact that he had no sugar at the time. If he had had a little sugar in his life he might rather have made lemonade for his friends.

Metaphorically speaking, there are times in everyone's life when sweetness is in short supply, acidity is rampant, and there's no real explanation for either. And when the environment you're in is basically a big blender, it's not all that difficult to get bloodied.

So, why is it that sometimes we're harder on those we love than on our worst enemies?

J

Bad driver

More muscle memory. It's starting to come back to me - specifically, why I was so eager to get myself in debt and buy a car when I graduated from York.

It was all the damn bus drivers who take it on themselves to leave you standing at the bus stop, with nothing but your bus pass in your hand, while they just drive on by.

This happened again this morning. It was 630. I waited my eight minutes and the bus came along. There was no traffic but the light turned red. The driver saw me while he was sitting there. Then the light turned green. I held out my bus pass, but the driver looked right at me and kept on going.

The air turned blue. My face turned purple. I called Transit to complain, then Emailed the Alderman. Ten minutes later there was another bus. I stood in the middle of the road to make sure this bus stopped.

This driver said the stop was closed because of the construction. I pointed out the lack of signage and suggested while it's a good thing to let drivers know, it might also be useful to tell the passengers.

The miscreant driver was late fifties, with a full, white beard. It was the 72 route. If you see this man, do not approach him! Just sit and stare angrily at the back of his head for the duration of your trip.

Oh, he'll get the message.

J

No Show

Ok. I waited until 10:20 but no one showed up. In terms of the experiment, what does this mean? It could mean several things.

Perhaps no one saw my tweet. Of course, I know that's not true - at least one person saw and acknowledged it, yet even they did not show. There could be any number of reasons for that, too - forgot she had a class, was trapped under a heavy object, got lost in MacHall on the way - but let's not go there. Let's look at this as an exercise in mass communication, and ask: "Did communication occur?"

I sent an invitation.

Perhaps my invitation was not timely enough? Was 24 hours enough notice: If I had said "next Tuesday, at 9am" would there have been a different response?

Was the message unclear? I know that the words "free" and "bevy" were used conjunctively, but perhaps the rest of the words were cryptic and just confused the issue. Did the maximum 140 tweet characters allowed play a part in this?

Perhaps the prize (free beverage) is to blame. It was not attractive enough. I should have promised a Porsche, or paid tuition - then people would have positively rioted to attend. Perhaps a lousy $5 drink wasn't enough to get people out of bed!

Perhaps no one in COMS201 had a class just at that time, and couldn't justify getting their asses all the way to campus just for a cup of coffee. Or, conversely, perhaps everyone in COMS201 (except me, of course) had a class and decided it was best not to skip that class just for a bevy.

Of course, there could be something about me, personally, that caused the experiment to fail. I'm a bit of a goof sometimes, so maybe there was no incentive to take me seriously. Also, I've had a cold lately - perhaps I somehow communicated this fact in my tweet and it became the deciding factor in the mass absence.

Perhaps the message in the tweet was clear enough, but the recipients were untrusting. "Who gives away free coffee!?" they may have asked, and decided thus that it was too good to be true. "Don't take candy from strangers" they have always been told, and with coffee being for students morning candy, it stands to reason that they would shy away from the offer.

There are so many possibilities. We may never know for sure why no one showed up. Whatever the reason, it is interesting to speculate on how and why the communication itself may have failed.

Anyway, I still have the same problem: I have a beverage to give away, and am now going to have to think of another way to do it.

J

A wonderful zippedy doo-dah day!

Sunday. My one day off per week. Of course, this week has been a little strange. With my rotten cold I haven't been able to do half the reading I wanted to; my eyes hurt so much I could barely keep them open. I would swear that a couple of my profs have wondered if I was snoozing in the lecture hall - though I wasn't.

Today is a bright and beautiful day. It's going to be 25C and sunny, and we're going to take in the last car show of the season; we're not putting anything in but we're going to go for a wonderful walk through the clean and the colorful, and enjoy the sunshine at the same time. Of course, if we were going to put vehicles in the show I would take text books and get some good reading done, but we're not, so so much for that.

Tomorrow begins week three. I've put in motion the IABC membership and volunteering and I'm going to be joining a blogging club on campus. There is a lot you can do on campus. Every day this week there has been a fair-slash-bazaar in the Macewan Student Centre showcasing the hundreds of clubs students can join. Such variety! This sort of thing never existed when I was at York. There were clubs, but they just used the bulletin boards as I recall. I don't remember any kind of "over-arching organization".

Grande Caramel Macchiatto

Starbucks at Quarry Park gave me a free coffee this morning. The manager said it was "just because" and only asked that I pay it forward. So... I have tweeted in the COMS201 twitter board that I will be at Starbucks on campus tomorrow at 10am, and that the first COMS201 student to find me there will get a free beverage. We'll see if anyone shows up. If nothing else it will be interesting, as an experiment, to see if anyone but me is watching the class twitter board on a Sunday. I will tweet the results to the class, and I'll let you know how it goes, too.

J

Recovering nicely

Oh, my, but how challenging has been this week! It was a wicked, wicked cold I had - short and sharp! It would appear, however, that I've taken all the right pills, because I feel ever so much better than yesterday - and yesterday I felt that much better, again, than the day before.

I've had everything: tore froat, ruddy dose, sidus paid, headages, tore eyes, buscle paid, sdeezig, chivers, chakes, and some occurrences from unmentionable areas that are themselves best left uncelebrated.

The big monster for me, though - symptomwise - is the cough. The cough terrifies me - and there's a very good reason for that: I've had pleurisy.

I quit smoking - cold turkey - about fifteen years ago now. About ten months after I quit I got hit by the worst chest cough I had ever had; that sucker had me flat on my back for over a week. It hurt to breathe lightly, lying on the couch. There was no question of exerting myself - I could barely move! That was the worst, but every year since then I've been blessed with a repeat performance - albeit progressively less severe. Every single year!

Yesterday at the height of the sinus thing I felt it all slump into my chest. I felt the tightening in my lungs - felt all my muscles tense up in anticipation of what has been as much as eight weeks of dry, unproductive cough with total misery and an inability to converse with anyone without having to interrupt all the time to cough, hack and wheeze - the inability even to inhale lightly without pain and anger.

That's why I fear it. A cold means so much more to me than most. It can mean two months of misery over and above the regular symptoms.

This time, though feels a little different. Oh, I felt it slump alright, and it's sitting there as I type this. But there have been long moments, this time, with no inkling of its evil presence, so I'm hoping this means that it's not going to hang around so long. Yes, it would be nice if I could finally shuck the effects of all that silly smoking.

Anyway, that's enough of that. Today better than yesterday, better than... Etc etc.

The good thing is that I didn't miss a class. Oh, I wasn't sure about that on Wednesday, but I held my breath, stuck it out and went in yesterday, regardless. I wasn't the only sniffler and honker, I can assure you. I counted at least a half a dozen. I'm not where I'd like to be in my reading, but that will improve as my eyes feel better.

J

Morning

This time last night - I can be completely honest - I did not think I would be here today. On Tuesday, shortly after the skunk thing, I started to feel very, very grungy. Grunginess developed into a wicked cold - throat, sinuses, the works. This time last night I was sitting on a chair in the living room, moaning and groaning about how I thought my head was going to explode. I thought for sure I'd have to skip today's classes - didn't want to - but thought I was going to have to. In yesterday's POLI class I just couldn't concentrate - my eyes hurt so much I just couldn't focus on anything - it was all I could do to even keep the damn things open! All I can say is it's a good thing I was using the recorder.
Then, at about 9pm I stood up and went into the kitchen, and within about 2 minutes of being in there   boom! - my left sinus cleared and I was suddenly breathing through both nostrils. It was literally as sudden as that - air flowing cool and fresh through both nostrils - dizziness gone. Amazing. I then went to bed, and wouldn't you know it but I actually slept quite well.

This morning I drove myself to school - I'm not hanging around outside for 30 minutes waiting for the bus when I'm like this - but other than that there hase been no real change in the routine. I actually felt almost human.

I'm going straight home after my morning classes, to lie down and catch a nap, then hopefully tomorrow I'll be right as rain again and I can get on with my "edjamacation".

Anyway, somewhat better I may be feeling, but I'm conscious that my prose isn't as crisp or concise as usual, nor my thought processes as well defined, so I'll leave it there for now.

J

I'm awake!

I really am, though if I wasn't before I left the house this morning I am now. Today is early class day and all morning day, so today's the day I take the bus. You know, there's just no way to rustle up a limousine at this time of day. My usual driver just says "To heck with that!" or words to that effect.

Anyway, I did everything I could to be as quiet as possible - to not wake up anyone else in the house - I'm just that kind of guy. I avoided all the creaky floorboards, used only the quiet light switches and even then only in the remote areas of the house - away from the bedrooms. I shaved quietly, flushed quietly, and very kindly left the emptying of the dishwasher to someone else.

When it was time to go I quietly velcroed my shoes, stepped out the door, closed it quietly. I even determined to be outside before zipping up my jacket - lest the horrid, screeching sound of plastic on plastic disturb anyone within.

Then I strode out. It's a fresh morning - about 3C - I would need to generate a little heat on the way to the bus stop - i strode out, past number 12, number 10, 6, 2, then - holy crap!

While thus energetically striding out, what before me did step out? Remember a month or so ago I mentioned there is a family of skunks in the 'hood?

I stopped instantly dead in my tracks. He looked at me once, then, thankfully, mosied on, tail and head just as high as they could be. He was aware of me perhaps, but certainly not worried. He walked over to the right sidewalk, I stayed on the left. He turned the corner toward Elbow, as I needed to do, then crossed over to the left sidewalk - where I needed to go. All the while I stayed a very respectable distance behind him. Finally, with my bus stop in sight and him still going straight toward it I called out: "Hey buddy, are we taking the same bus?"

After a couple more minutes he finally cut left into a back alley.

Like I said: "I'm awake."

J

One

With yesterday's class, week one is now in the books. Ask me what I think.

I think the tiring part isn't going to be all the study involved, it's going to be that it's six days a week. And even then it's really not that it's six days, but that I have to get there, back and forth, six days a week, and that on four of those days I'm going in for just one class. I know, that's just how it worked out and I'm really not worried about it, but it's there, cumulatively, and by the end of the semester I'm probably going to feel it. That's part of what I was talking about when I mentioned "muscle memory" before.

Tomorrow begins week two. I have some reading to do before tomorrow afternoon's [one and only] class, and I have still to type up Saturday's lecture notes, but otherwise I'm good to go. I'll go in early for both.

Actually, it's a gas. I guarantee that by the end of this second degree I'm either going to feel very, very old, or very young - much younger than my forty-six years. My big hope is that by the end of it all the youngsters have gotten used to seeing me around. Maybe some more of them will even feel comfortable saying "Hi" in the hallway.

I have volunteered with the IABC - the International Association of Business Communicators. I am aware that I need to avoid taking too much on - for the sake of my studies, if nothing else - but I'm thinking long term here. I believe it's going to be good for me.

J

Another beautiful day in paradise

The sun is shining, the sky is as blue as it was ever meant to be, the trees are calm and content: God is in his heaven and all is right with the world. Why?

Because today's the day I'm going to pay my tuition. Yes, the cheque is written, the book is updated, the Brinks truck is ordered and I'm ready; ready for whatever travails will befall me in the effort to get it done.

Later: photos of my contusions!

J

Stick 'em up!

Just a quick note... I'll be paying my tuition tomorrow. It was another busy day at school. My notes are up to date and I got some more reading done this afternoon. I'll be starting to prepare for my GNST essays shortly. Looks like they'll be quite involved.

That's it, that's all.

J

Ramping Up

Thursday. It has been an interesting week. Not only am I ramping up physically to keep up with all the demands of learning and being involved, but I'm ramping up mentally. I'm starting to feel a little muscle memory from the last degree - tired moments of thought stolen from a dark tunnel between classes, a snack snagged on the run, endless hours spent in the library trying to concentrate on dialectic this, or ineluctable that. I had almost forgotten that university types have a language all their own. The ordinary "have a conversation and get the job done" from daily life is once again being ground out of me - yes, I'm getting back into the swing of things.

I got here early for a class today - very early - so I typed up my class notes from yesterday's POLI lecture, and am writing this now to make sure my brain is engaged for the 8am lecture. It's nice and quiet in here. Except for the footsteps - back and forth - coming, it seems to me, from places where there should be no footsteps.

I'm starting to remember the intensity I felt at the end of my last degree, and the reason I had such a big let down after that one was done. It really is a lot of work. One email yesterday tightened the knot a little - "Please read these three articles by Friday". They total about 100 pages.

By Friday. This is where your life disappears, where all the other plans you've made to do what they told you to do - have a life outside of classes - goes to pot. How can you read half a book in two days, absorb it so you can discuss it, and still watch a ball game or write up a sports interview for the campus paper? How do you maintain any kind of life with these sudden assignments?

Well, it's hard. And I am remembering that it was always meant to be. If getting a degree were easy everyone would do it. What's the answer? Do the best you can.

Because I'm older than I used to be I'm having more difficulty adjusting my body clock to what I need to do here. But I'm not panicking - it's only week one. It won't be too long before I've forgotten all these momentary terrors. I'll be just fine.

I'm getting used to the blank stares some of the kids are still giving me - the what the hell is he doing here? look. I'm learning to ignore it.

I've got a job to do.

J

Blank Page

I thought about it, yesterday when I was waiting for my first class to begin. There I was, book open, note pad ready, pen firmly in hand. The page was blank, and - really - so was my degree. I realized that whatever went down on that page would be the beginning of the next leg of my education.

I tried to make it worthwhile.

It was an interesting class experience. About 150 in the room, with seven or eight standing at the back. I was one of two "mature" types, as far as I could see. I made the mistake of sitting at the back - you know, I didn't want to appear to be too keen. It was a mistake because throughout the class all I really got to see was kids playing with their cell phones, doing their Facebook, chatting and giggling. Well, even if they don't know why they're here, I do, and for this morning's class I'm sitting in the front row, right near the middle. I don't need those distractions and will be taking a front-centre seat from now on - no question about it. I know what I'm here for.

This place was crowded yesterday - I mean, a mass of people. I've only been here in the summer so far, when it was relatively quiet, but yesterday was nuts. I suppose that every student registered had some sort of class to attend or something to take care of, so they were all here for the proverbial good showing. It will undoubtedly thin out over the next few days, as the youngsters drop courses and start playing hooky, and for me that's a good thing.

Anyway, just a quick submission this morning. More thoughts later.

It has begun.

J

Contemplation

I had occasion, on Wednesday, to meet with some other "mature" students at the mature social - well, it wasn't so much a social as a PowerPoint with a few laughs - and I must say, much to my surprise and chagrin, that I was a little disappointed. With one exception, which I'll get to in a moment, no one talked to each other. Sixty people in the room, and no one seemed to want to enjoy themselves; everyone seemed miserable, jaded, life-worn - as if the whole thing was a chore. Hey, maybe it was, I guess I'll never know.

In making this assessment, of course, I am coloured by all the enthusiasm and energy the kids had brought to the earlier festivities - you know, chanting, cheering, and spinning, darn them: compared to that, this was a dirge. Of course, if I had skipped all that frosh stuff and just shown up for the mature thingy I might have been really pooped out by its energy level, though I doubt it.

The exception was one kindred soul - Tanya - my dear, I'm sorry but I don't know your last name - who is the only other adult I actually *saw* at any time throughout the frosh ceremonies: we were in the same Arts group touring the Communications department.

Ah yes, I remember it well. A little more human bingo was organized (I now know this to be a getting-acquainted exercise) and in the course of this my brakes failed and I ran in to Tanya. Of course, I realized instantly that she was "mature" like me, and as if in cosmic harmony we launched immediately into the ancient tribal rites of "hey!", and "up high!" and "down low!" It was incredible, but we just knew - viscerally - far beyond the number of rings in the trunk - that we were making a connection based on perspective and equality. She did not look "old" by any means, and I know I look like an 18 year old, albeit one who has let himself go for the last 28 years, but the point is we just knew.

I've been busy outside of orientation this week too, as you know. I'm volunteering for the campus paper and have already made ink with the grammar thing; when it's online I'll post a link. I've also worked with the sports editor to interview key members of the women's field hockey team and have already written that up: it should be in the next issue. That's a first for me, but I've promised to do it again, and soon. I find myself constantly thinking of ways to help them, and so help myself.

While there, I sat in the editors' social area marveling at how natural it felt to be there, in that environment. I found it ironic that I chose not to pursue a journalism career out of York because I didn't have the confidence to stick a microphone in someone's face and drag information out of them, yet I somehow managed to carve a 20 year career as an insurance adjuster, sticking a microphone in someone's face and dragging information out of them. What was it, the money? Hardly. That was when I realized that my favorite movie of all time is "The Paper", 1994, with Michael Keaton, Glenn Close and Robert Duvall. You see, that's my milieu: a busy place, passionate, energetic, friendly, devoted to words and the interminable effort to make them right, to make them do what you want them to - not approximately, not lazily, but with easy energy and positive anxiety. Eustress, not distress - the positive angst of wanting to be a part of things when they happen, of wanting to be a part of making them happen, and of making something tangible every day and wanting to be amongst like-minded people a the time.

Anyway, that's just great, but back to reality and now that frosh week is all said and done, now that the courses are chosen, the books are bought and the bag is packed, and a large number of my questions are answered, I can finally get on with the business of learning.

That starts on Monday, and I can hardly wait.

J

Frosh Week

Today was the day, and boy, am I bushed!

The weather was perfect. Not a cloud in the sky today, and hot, hot, hot - well, for Calgary anyway. I lined up at Starbucks on campus for my grande Americano before heading out to the athletics field to find the meeting place. When I got there, there were about 15 students already waiting. Within five minutes or so the number had swelled to about 1000. All students from the Faculty of Farts.

We were pretty quiet to begin with. Well, let's say that "they" were pretty quiet to begin with. I did try, but being old and warty I wasn't too good at getting rowdy. When the Orientation Leaders arrived things got louder. First, questions and answers, then a game called "Bang!" then learning and practicing the Faculty chant. I tried, but decided that I would mostly watch, laugh and smile as the agitated, energetic youth got things stirred up.

After a much needed pee break (phew!) we all headed to the induction ceremony in the gymnasium. That was in the Kinesiology Building. I knew there would be quite a few students there, just from the size of the Arts crowd, but I don't think I expected what I saw when we got there. It was the frantic five thousand. The noise grew and grew as I got closer to the auditorium. Here is my first glimpse of the throng.

As I say, the noise grew and grew. All the cheers, chants and roars of a happy crowd, ready and waiting, enthused. Each faculty had their own chant - and they practiced and practiced while we waited for the dignitaries to arrive. It got louder and louder. Haskayne competing with Arts, competing with the Engineers, competing with the Nursing and the Faculty of Medical Science etc etc etc. The Arts chant was something about being asked who we are, and being happy to tell everyone that we're "Arts, Arts, Arts!" with some gyrations, bumping and spinning thrown in. Again, I watched, laughed and smiled.

I was surprised to find that there weren't very many "mature" (boy, have I got them fooled!) students attending, and I'm pretty sure that I was the only one actually down on the floor. That's okay, although I did feel somewhat alone, and as so many of the youngsters did a "double-take" when they first saw me I could tell that I was not what they were expecting to see. This made me feel - what's the word...  "Outstanding!"

The dignitaries arrived. There were several speeches - Student Union President, Student Leader, President, Dean, and Connor Grennan, the author of the Common Reading Program book, Little Princes. Now, I enjoyed the book a great deal, but I must say that in my opinion Mr. Grennan lowered his communication standards a bit too much to try to accommodate the freshman students. Since when does an author of any accomplishment make a speech including dozens, even hundreds of instances of "he's all like, she's all like, and I'm like," and so on and so forth? It was disappointing. I know - that's my baggage and it's probably true that everyone else in the room probably thought it was a great speech - but I can only bring my experience to bear, and that's what I thought.

After the ceremony we were promised barbecue cuisine served up by the dignitaries, but that did not happen. At least, not while I was there. Perhaps they put in a five minute stint shortly after the breakout, but I didn't see it. The burger was - frankly - not cooked with love: it was grey, with the barest, thinnest evidence of griddle marks that may have been drawn on in the factory. It was slapped on an uncooked bun, and we were to plop on ketchup, mustard and green relish as a dressing. No onions. No lettuce. No love.

I took in the "carnival", which was a parade of tents and tables representing various campus organizations. That was interesting, but it only took about ten minutes.

I skipped the Reading Program book discussion.

So that was my day. My first day back in school. I think lessons will be easier - on me, at least.

Let's get it on!

Ok, tomorrow is the start of Orientation Week. My schedule includes group meetings (830am), induction (930am), a pep rally (yay!), a campus carnival, a President's barbecue and a discussion of e common reading program book. And that's just Tuesday! On Wednesday I have group meetings, faculty orientation, an Introduction to Academic Learning, Gauntlet orientation (along with the two stations), and a mature student social. Then Thursday adds University Involvement 101, meet the student's union, and Tools for Success. (I should probably do that one.) Cheeses, I certainly didn't have all this when I started at York 25 years ago! Times sure have changed.

Right now I'm at my favorite Starbucks - in Quarry Park - enjoying the start of my last real day off for a while. I'm feeling some trepidation about it all, as you might suppose from yesterday's shorter entry. Oh, I'm confident, but there's just no doubt about it - the lifestyle changes now. These are my last few breaths of free, relaxed air. From here it gets stuffy and tense.

James m

Update



Halls of Learning



It’s getting closer! Orientation starts next week and after that, nothing but the slog. Twelve weeks from now I’ll be writing my exams and I’ll be a quarter of the way there; a quarter of the way to Nirvana and the reinvented me. I’m still looking for the last book I need – Global Politics in a New World Era - but it probably won’t be in until the first day of classes.

I did take one step this week toward defining the semester. I signed up as a volunteer for The Gauntlet, the campus newspaper. I will offer my skills in writing, editing, and proofreading. I’ve already written an article which they may or may not find useful, creating a character (with my sister’s help) called the “Grammar Nut”. I wrote it in the style of a newspaper article. How odd, you say - writing a newspaper article in the style of a newspaper article!

But you know, I think it might be more useful to get some reporting experience - perhaps sports reporting or art critiquing. Perhaps I'll interview the University President, or the football coach, or a few of the stage performers in the university theatre. That sort of activity would help broaden my resume a little - especially as the current version is far too heavily weighted with insurance stuff. Besides, it's not like I've never taken a statement or conducted an interview. Transferable skills.

Actually, I’ve never really written a true newspaper article before, so I did a little research online to learn the required format and make sure I was getting it right. It’s not really all that difficult; there are four basic sections – Headline, Byline, Lead, and Explanation. This is very good stuff to know.

I know that it took me far too long to write the Grammar Nut article, but I’ll get faster. Let’s face it, I’m rusty. In school I won’t have all the time in the world to make sure everything is perfect, so I’ll train myself to make the first draft that much better so I don't have to go through so many subsequent drafts. It's about concentration, and focus - letting the thoughts flow as accurately as possible, so that there is less “tidying up” to do afterwards.

The organization thing reminds me of my Grade XIII English teacher – Mrs. Lewis. She’s taught me the most essential aspect of writing an essay: the format. Introduction, Point One, Point Two, Point Three, and Conclusion. In teaching me this basic template Mrs. Lewis allowed me to break my ideas down accurately, and create articles with sense and order. Dear Mrs. Lewis organized my mind better than any of the shrinks I have ever spoken to - and I’ve spoken to quite a few shrinks. I thanked her with a hardback copy of Wuthering Heights. I think that came up in one of the shrink sessions once, too.

There is something else I learned from Mrs. Lewis, too. I learned that I learn best from emulation. Oh, I can pick up something difficult if it’s thrust at me often enough, but if I see someone do what I want to do, I will understand it a lot better and will be able to do it well a lot sooner than if I have to somehow teach it to myself. I guess, all things being equal, I’d rather learn from someone who knows what they’re doing than from someone who knows what they’re talking about. There is a difference.

From that point of view school should be interesting. I know everyone has their style, and certainly the professors will have their own way of teaching. That said, something occurs to me that I learned in finalizing my first degree – the best way to remember things is to apply them to what you know and what you have experienced. To do your best learning, add the new material to something you already know - relate it to your current experience.

Example? I failed my Geography O'Level the first time I took it (or was it a midterm exam?) Despite all the studying I had done and the cramming of useless facts and figures into my young head, I just couldn't relate it to anything I understood - it just hung there, nebulous information in the ether. I asked the teacher what to do - he suggested that I study the North American curriculum instead - apparently many classes were studying North America, just not ours. So I struck out on my own, worked through the North American sections in the text book, went to the library and crammed all sorts of North American facts and figures onto the personal foundation I had built as a good little Canadian boy, and it stuck. I passed the exam with flying colours, even though the teacher had chosen to do Western Europe.

Anyway, that’s enough for today. Things to see, people to – er, people to see, things to do!

J

Gettin' Nervous

It's all starting to happen. The nerves are building. The planning is done, now it's time to swap plans for action, to get things rolling, to prove that I wasn't the problem, to remove the proverbial finger, to show any who still doubt that this - communications - is where I was meant to be - where I should have been all along.

Now it's time to put up or shut up, to shit or get off the pot.

Here's a picture.

J